


False (red) Colours

by a_solitary_marshmallow



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Vampires, Well - Freeform, a while ago i got an idea for a vampire au, aaaaaaaand, rated t for descriptions of blood and violence, this happened
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:21:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25027621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_solitary_marshmallow/pseuds/a_solitary_marshmallow
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders
Comments: 2
Kudos: 47





	False (red) Colours

As far as situations went, Virgil was pretty sure his was unique.

Not because of the whole hunting vampires thing; apparently there were tonnes of those people scattered around the globe. Heck, Virgil probably wasn’t the only hunter to join the cause because he’d been enamored by a goddamn beautiful idiot who he couldn’t just walk away from. But if he came across another vampire pretending to be human to go on vampire hunting trips with said idiot, then he had to congratulate them, because keeping this shit secret was hard.

Not that Virgil felt bad for the vampires they hunted down. He and Roman only went after the nasty ones anyway, the ones who took their strength and longevity and used it for their own gain, to punish or control those around them. So no, Virgil didn’t particularly care about those vampires. They were just bloodsuckers who abused their power, they were practically asking to be staked.

Which was why he didn’t feel bad for what they were about to do.

“Anything yet?” Roman asked from the drivers seat. They’d parked in a shadowy junkyard to observe the comings and goings of an old, disused storage facility on the edge of town. Virgil rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, now that you mention it, I saw a vampire earlier and decided not to mention it because I like sitting in a dark car in the middle of the night.” He drawled. Roman pulled out his sword to sharpen it lazily and Virgil hissed at him. “Put that thing away! You’ll end up stabbing someone.”

Roman snorted. “Kinda the plan, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, the plan to not stab me.” Virgil muttered. Roman, the gorgeous idiot, just grinned at him crookedly and rolled his eyes. The moment only lasted a moment, however, because his gaze sharpened and locked onto something through the window. The hairs on the back of Virgil’s neck stood on end. He quickly followed Roman’s stare.

Movement at the mouth of the building. A figure scurried through the entrance, shutting the door after them. They moved fluidly and disappeared inside within seconds. From their speed and coordination in the dark, Virgil was pretty certain he knew what they were, and it was just what he and Roman had come looking for. He tried to catch a further glimpse of the figure through the windows but they had all been boarded up.

“What’s the bet it’s a whole nest?” Roman said lowly.

“Well, boarded windows. They’re still young enough to be weak to the sun.” Virgil pointed out. “So our guy’s probably converting new followers and enthralling them while they’re still weak. That’ll be where all the disappearances are coming from, I guess. Another world-leader wannabe.”

Roman looked thoughtful. “Maybe. Either the missing people are already enthralled, or they’re dinner. No way we’ll be able to rescue any of them. We’ve gotta shut this down before they get anyone else.”

“Do we need to call Joan and Talyn?” Virgil asked. He wasn’t exactly thrilled to be calling in more hunters, as nice as the duo had seemed when they met up for lunch the other week, and thankfully Roman shook his head.

“They’re already busy tonight. Besides, we’ve got this.” Roman ran a hand through tousled brown curls and grinned. “Least kills buys pizza tomorrow?”

“You’re on.”

Roman took the left wing while Virgil took the right. It was the best way to tackle newly-established nests – the sire would be resting, protected, in the heart of the building, sending his newly fledged underlings to act as guards on the outskirts. Virgil’s heart went out to the vampire standing guard in front of side door – she had obviously been turned only a few days ago at most. She flinched even at the soft glow of the moon as if it were the sun’s glare, and squinted around at her dark surroundings. Even her night vision must not have fully kicked in yet.

Virgil could remember what it was like to be newly fledged. He’d been scared, confused, hurt and hungry. He didn’t understand what was going on around him. It had taken weeks of hiding and feeding and adjusting to his new body for him to gather his mind enough to finally remember his own name. He’d recovered; eventually.

But Virgil hadn’t been enthralled by an elder vampire.

Which was why he didn’t hesitate to break her neck, as quickly and painlessly as he could before making his way further into the building. He encountered few fledgling on his way. It was a nest in its early stages, after all. Hunters had to make sure to close down any nests before they could be properly established and dig their roots in too deep.

Virgil’s anxiety levels rose the further he explored, knives at the ready. This place was quiet, eerie – it gave him the creeps. More so than the usual creepy vampire hangouts. And that was saying something.

A scrape. Virgil flattened his back against a wall, listening carefully into the quiet of the inner sanctuary. There was a muted rustling and rasp of voices. Virgil slunk towards the entrance.

No time to think, only act. As soon as the room came into focus, the gloomy concrete floors and the vampire hissing to its quivering subject, Virgil lunged.

The elder screeched and its eyes flashed – the fledgling jerked, against their will, into Virgil’s path. Virgil swiped them out of the way and found a pistol aimed at his face.

The elder vampire stared at him, and Virgil stared back. Since when did vampires need guns? This one apparently took no chances. Its face slowly split into a fanged smile as it regarded Virgil. At least Roman wasn’t here yet. They stood alone in a dark room that may have once been an office or a break room. Now it was torn up and water-stained. The air smelled mildewy.

“Nice place you got here.” Virgil drawled. The vampire’s head tipped.

“A hunter. I was wondering when you’d show up.”

Virgil’s lip curled. “Yeah, yeah, speeches and all that shit. I get the drill.”

“You’re not going to ask me about myself?”

“I don’t fucking care who you are.”

The vampire shrugged. “That’s fair.” It said, and then it pressed the trigger and shot Virgil in the chest with a deafening crack. There was a sharp impact that hurt like a bitch, and he hissed, clutching at his shirt with sharp nails. It burned, already itching as it began to scab over. The blood dribbled over his hand. It was hot and metallic and the scent of it made Virgil’s fangs burst free with the need to rip tear rend.

The vampire’s eyes widened comically. “You’re-”

Virgil didn’t realize a familiar figure stood frozen in the doorway.

He didn’t realize as he lunged at the gun-toting vampire with a roar; sank his fangs into its neck and tore out its throat; latched onto the hot, life-giving pulse and gulped greedily as he dragged its twitching body to the floor. He wrapped his legs around its convulsing chest and sucked down deep mouthfuls of liquid. Contrary to popular beliefs, vampires could still bleed. They had heartbeats.

But not enough, not fast enough to sate his hunger. Virgil tore through veins and arteries and sank his fangs in once again, feeling the strong throbbing of his prey’s heartbeat nearly push bursts of blood down his throat.

And then a voice that shattered his whole world into pieces.

“Virgil!”

Virgil’s appetite dropped like a stone. He snapped his head up – too little, too late, for the human in the doorway. The human who had been here this whole time. Roman stood white-faced with his sword clutched in one hand, and when Virgil met his horrified gaze Roman lifted it.

“No.” The sound that tore from Virgil’s lips was rough, somewhere between a whimper and a sob. He clapped his hands over his blood-smeared face.

But the damage was done.

Roman stepped forward and Virgil slithered back with a frightened cry. The gleam of the blade filled his vision. He scrambled in reverse until his back hit a wall – pinned, trapped.

And still Roman advanced. Virgil pressed his back against the wall.

“Roman, please – walk away now, don’t come any closer! Roman BACK OFF!”

Step after slow step. Virgil dug his nails into the wall and screamed, “BACK OFF! I’LL KILL YOU!”

Roman didn’t slow.

“Leave me alone! ROMAN! I swear I’ll kill you – I swear I’ll–”

But Virgil couldn’t swear anything. He curled up into a ball and hissed half-heartedly at the hunter who loomed over him, sword in hand. Roman. He couldn’t hurt Roman.

Roman moved, and Virgil closed his eyes and hoped it would be quick.

Seconds passed and the pain did not come, nor the sound of Virgil’s neck being sliced. He peeked out from under his eyelashes, still expecting the blow to come.

Roman’s sword had been roughly, hastily shoved into its sheath. And Roman – Roman had dropped down to his knees with his hands palm-up and empty. Virgil stared at him suspiciously – what was the trick? The ploy? The knife to spear him through the heart?

“Virgil.” Roman rasped. “Virgil, please. I’m not gonna hurt you. I’m not.”

Not? Virgil tucked himself in tighter. He hadn’t felt his eyes well up but he did feel the hot blood track down his face in a vampire’s imitation of tears.

“Virgil, listen to me. You’re safe. I promise you you’re safe.”

Virgil bit his lip – but he’d forgotten about his unsheathed fangs and now fresh blood welled up, sliding down his chin.

Roman opened his arms. “It’s okay.”

It was probably a ruse – a trick, to get him to drop his guard. What the hell. Virgil would die anyway. He may as well pretend to be loved, just for a little while.

So he tipped forward and into Roman’s grip – allowing the hunter to hold him while Virgil wept into his vampire-blood-splattered jacket. Roman stroked his hair feverishly. He was warm, solid, and the contact made Virgil relax against him almost instantly like a tired cat. Everything might even be worth it for this moment.

“Oh, stormcloud. Hey, it’s okay. You’re okay.” Roman whispered. “I love you. We’re gonna be okay.”

Definitely worth it. Virgil took a deep breath and steeled himself for the jab of a blade in his unprotected back. It… didn’t come. Roman was getting slow.

Maybe he wanted to draw this out. Virgil didn’t have it in him to fight anymore. Whatever Roman had planned for him it was justified anyway.

He let out a whimper of protest as Roman started pulling away, and was answered by Roman’s arms tightening again.

“We have to leave, okay Virge?” He whispered. “Let’s go home.”

Well, that was morbid. Virgil nodded mutely against Roman’s chest. If that was where he wanted to do it…

Roman was deathly silent on the way home. Virgil pulled his knees to his chest in the passenger seat and looked out the window for the whole drive. The midnight city was alight – a collage of bright signs and dim alleyways and the stretch of charcoal sky. Occasionally Virgil would catch glimpses of his reflection in the window. His drawn face, the shadows under haunted eyes, bloodstains around his mouth and dripping down his chin. Looking every bit the monster he was.

Virgil tried to ignore that and focus on the view. After all, this was the last time he’d see it.

The drive ended all too soon, Roman pulling into a familiar driveway. The usually cheerful face of home now appeared dark and menacing. Virgil barely waited for the car to stop before he shoved opened his door and strode inside. With his pretense of being human blown, he didn’t need to turn the lights on. He did, for Roman’s benefit.

Virgil looked out the window and hugged himself as Roman’s footsteps followed him inside. Roman pulled off his bloodstained jacket and dropped it on a rack.

“Do you want the shower first?” Roman offered quietly. Jeez, he was really taking this seriously. Virgil shook his head. “Okay then.”

The hunter disappeared into the bathroom. He was being very trusting, assuming Virgil wouldn’t try to escape. Or maybe Roman knew that even if Virgil did run, he would just find him again. Roman always found his prey.

Virgil slumped bonelessly on the couch and buried his face in his hands.

It seemed like only a few minutes later that Roman emerged with wet hair. Virgil glanced up through his fingers, biting his lip. Roman was heading for the fridge.

“Shower’s yours. I’m gonna cook some ravioli, and then we should talk. Things always seem better after a meal, like Mama used to say-”

Virgil yelled, “Why are you doing this?”

Roman froze. Oh shit, Virgil hadn’t meant to say anything. But it was done now.

He stood jerkily from the couch. “I get that you want to do it right, or whatever. I’m a vampire. I get it. But – but now you’re just being cruel.” Virgil dug his fingers into his scalp, eyes prickling with bloody tears. “Why don’t you just get it over with? Do you want to set me on fire or something? Do you want to chop off my head? I don’t care Roman, just do it already!”

Roman looked horrified. “Virgil, what on earth are you talking about?”

“You need help? I’ll help you!” Virgil grabbed out his own dagger with shaking hands and pressed the tip to his chest. It pricked through his shirt and Roman paled. “Just do it already! Put me out of my misery, I don’t want – I don’t want to wait any longer.” His voice cracked. “Why are you making me wait?”

“Virgil.” Virgil winced up through a blur of red tears as Roman stalked forward. Roman grabbed the dagger from his hands and threw it away. It skittered across the floor. Virgil stared at Roman as the hunter framed his face, tears pouring from bright brown eyes. “Virgil, honey, please listen. I’m not gonna hurt you, I swear, Stormcloud. I’m not. You’re my Virge. We can handle this, I promise. Listen – listen!” He grabbed Virgil’s hands as the vampire tried to hide his face. “You’re safe, Virgil, I promise.”

Virgil shook his head and tried to shout, but his voice came out as more of a strangled sob. “I’m a bloodsucker. A parasite. I deserve to die, you know that-”

“No, Virgil, you’re so good. You’re so good. You don’t deserve to die and I’m not gonna kill you. Okay?”

There was no lie in his voice.

Roman was crying, and his eyes were so intense – Virgil couldn’t meet them. He could only nod mutely. Roman squeezed his hands.

“Now why don’t you go have a shower? You’ll feel better after that. And we can eat some food, and sleep, and talk tomorrow. Okay?” Virgil nodded again. “Do you wanna have a sleepover in my room?” Another nod. “Okay. I’ll take care of it.”

Roman kissed Virgil’s forehead before sending him to the bathroom. It was warm and full of steam. Homely in a way that Virgil didn’t deserve. He stood under hot water and scrubbed dry blood from his skin. He felt like he was in a dream.

When Virgil emerged Roman was making trips from the lounge to his room, carting pillows and – was that the fucking microwave? Virgil hesitated. When Roman wobbled though, instinct kicked in and he darted forward to catch the heavy machinery before it could drop.

“Thanks.” Roman wheezed, not flinching like Virgil would have expected. He was acting so… normal. Virgil would have been weirded out if he wasn’t so tired.

“Why the fuck are you taking the microwave?” Virgil asked quietly.

“Uh, because I want to make popcorn and it’s annoying to keep walking back and forth from the kitchen to my room? Duh. Hey, you’ve got that super vampire strength right? Can’t believe I’ve been carrying things for you all this time. Come on, we’re eating popcorn and watching movies and leaving all the knives and shit out here.”

Virgil blinked at the overload of information. “Um.”

“Are you coming or what?” 

Virgil shifted the microwave to his hip and stared at the exasperated hunter, whose eyes were still pink from crying and yet rolling like this was any other day and he hadn’t just discovered his best friend was a fucking vampire. Seriously. Virgil had known Roman was an idiot, but he’d expected the hunter to have some sense of self-preservation.

“I have fangs.” Virgil blurted out. Roman frowned at him.

“Yes. I thought we already covered this? Now get your ass into gear, Big Hiro 6 isn’t going to watch itself.”

…huh. Either Roman or Virgil were stupider than he’d thought, because this was not playing out how he’d expected.

For the sake of his dignity, Virgil chose to believe it was Roman who was lacking in IQ. He shrugged and went to carry the fucking microwave into Roman’s bedroom. His idiot had decided to keep him, and like hell Virgil was gonna throw that away by being moody and dramatic.

He managed to not be moody and dramatic up until Roman cheekily suggested they watch Twilight. At that point Virgil couldn’t be blamed for throwing a pillow at his face.


End file.
